


Anata no  Tame ni Shinu (Die for you)

by vogue91



Category: Hey! Say! JUMP, Johnny's Entertainment
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Angst, Character Death, Introspection, Love, M/M, Murder-Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-24
Updated: 2018-07-24
Packaged: 2019-06-15 12:36:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15413043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vogue91/pseuds/vogue91
Summary: Yuri was crying.He wanted to cry all the tears he had, and it didn’t matter if he was going to feel sick, if someone was going to see him, because there was nothing else to do for him, because he didn’t care about his dignity. He didn’t have that anymore.





	Anata no  Tame ni Shinu (Die for you)

Yuri was crying.

He wanted to cry all the tears he had, and it didn’t matter if he was going to feel sick, if someone was going to see him, because there was nothing else to do for him, because he didn’t care about his dignity. He didn’t have that anymore.

 

_Yuya thrust inside of him, brutal, as if his primary goal was that of hurting him and not climaxing. He tightened his hand on his hip, so hard that Yuri could feel his fingers leaving a mark on his skin, and he knew it was going to bruise._

_As usual, after all._

He thought about the night before, and the pain he had felt - that he was still feeling – resurfaced as if he was reliving it right now, as if he could still feel Yuya’s hands on him.

Mornings were the worst.

He had been awake for half an hour and he was trying not to make too much noise, hoping that Takaki wasn’t going to wake up.

Every time, when he did, he went to him and hugged him, held him tight, brushing his fingers on the outlines of those wounds he had inflicted on him, looking so guilty that Yuri felt the one in the wrong, as if somehow he had provoked him, as if he had forced him to hurt him.

And Yuri hated to feel like that. He hated thinking he deserved it, hated thinking it was his fault, and that Yuya suffered because of it.

But he didn’t know what to do.

When Yuya had his outburst of apparently unjustified anger and started hitting him, Yuri hated him and thought he wanted to see him dead, and every blow of his hands on his face added up to that certainty.

When morning came and he saw those eyes, and those hands which had hurt him so much became so tender on his skin, he felt all the hatred fade, change direction and point at himself, because Takaki was just too good at convincing him he was the guilty one.

 

_“I'm sorry, Yuri. I'm sorry, but I had to. Yamada was so close today... I couldn’t take it.”_

_Chinen cried, lying on those sheets slightly stained with his blood._

_He cried, and he thought he didn’t deserve it, he thought Yuya had no reason to doubt, that there had never been anything between Ryosuke and him, that he shouldn’t have felt guilty about something he hadn't done._

_But he kept quiet, because he never knew which of his words was going to tick him off._

He slowly sipped his coffee, careful to avoid the cut on his lip. 

Once again, they weren’t going to be happy at make-up.

He just wanted to stay inside, forever. Not having to see anyone, not give Yuya any reason to doubt again, stay with him and him alone, and enjoy that love he had fought for, and which had proven to be only a dream.

Yuri was tired of that life, but he wasn’t ready to give up on Yuya, even though his instinct told him that one day something worse was going to happen, that Takaki would've lost control and he would've died under those hands he had desired so hard.

How fair was to risk it, now?

It wasn’t, and he knew that. It wasn’t fair for Yuya to take away from him all he had, to take away his life, his dignity, and that love that despite everything Yuri still felt.

He heard the bedroom door open, and held his breath.

Yuya dragged his feet into the kitchen, muttering a greeting while he poured some coffee into a mug.

He sat next to him, stretching his arm out toward him, brushing his skin, and Yuri had to appeal to all of his self-control to avoid backing off.

“Does... does it hurt?” the elder asked, tracing the outline of a bruise on his shoulder.

Chinen smiled; it was the least indicated thing to do, probably, but there wasn’t a right one.

“Don’t worry, Yuu. It’s going to pass, it always does.” he murmured, and kept drinking his coffee while the other couldn’t stop touching him, standing up and getting behind him, hugging him and holding him against his chest, as if he didn’t want to let him go.

And Yuri cried again because it was all he could do, and because once again he had to come to terms with the fact that Yuya truly loved him, somehow.

He loved him, and for that same love he was getting hurt, and for that same love Yuri felt his life was over already.

He let the elder hold him, and pushed himself against him.

Those arms, after all, were all he had ever dreamed of.

 

~

 

Yuri could barely keep his eyes open.

They were swollen, bruised. They fit well with his face, covered in scratches, blood, just like the rest of his body.

That night had been endless.

Yuya had lost what little control he usually managed to keep, and he had paid the consequences.

He hadn't even understood what had been the issue at hand, but after all he never did.

He looked at his reflection in the mirror.

That couldn’t be the love Yuya felt for him, he couldn’t believe that the anger was so much to make it fade, as if that love wasn’t strong enough to resist it.

And Yuri’s wasn’t so strong anymore either.

He had caved at the tenth slap, before he lost count.

He had caved to the punches, the scratches, he had caved to Yuya pushing inside of him, while he felt like an empty shell.

In the end Yuya could do as he pleased with him, because they both knew it was never going to end, that neither of them was going to change.

As much pain as he could feel now, the daylight was going to bring forgiveness, and Yuri couldn’t allow that.

Something, after all, could change.

Estranging himself from his body, which he had gotten pretty good at, he went back to the bathroom.

They weren’t his hands, those grabbing the pillow, those keeping it pressed against Yuya’s face, it wasn’t his body which was resisting while the elder struggled, with all the strength he had.

He got back to his senses when he stared at his boyfriend’s corpse, when he cried, once again, and when he thought that Yuya’s hands were never going to touch him again.

That they weren’t going to hurt him, but that they weren’t going to caress him either.

That his mouth was never going to bite him again, but that those lips weren’t going to kiss him.

That that body wasn’t going to push inside of his own against his will, but that he wasn’t going to feel the warmth of that skin soothing him when he couldn’t sleep at night.

He headed back toward the bathroom, still crying.

Amongst bruises and tears he felt like he couldn’t see anymore, and perhaps it was better like this.

He was aware of himself while one of Yuya’s razors slashed his wrist.

Once. Twice.

The blood dripped on the bathroom’s floor, but he couldn’t feel any pain.

His knees gave out, and he knew the moment had finally come.

He would've never let Yuya be the one to kill him; he would've never wanted for him to bear such a sin.

Because he loved him, didn’t he?

He did.

They were going to love each other forever.


End file.
